How to Bake A Scone
by MagicButterflySox
Summary: It's been a while since America and England have last seen eachother, and now America is insisting that England come and see his "surprise". USUK. One-shot. And remember kids, denial isn't just a river in China.


**How to Bake A Scone  
><strong>**Summary: It's been a while since America and England have last seen eachother, and now America is insisting that England come and see his "surprise". USUK. One-shot. And remember kids, denial isn't just a river in China.  
>Rated T<strong>

**OK! Sox here! **

_Yello~ This is Butterfly~_

**So, this is the product-**

_love child!_

_..._**of an RP session we did. It was, in short, amazing. It's also inspired by Axis of Awesome's video 'How to Bake A Scone'. I'll put the link at the bottom.  
><strong>

_Hm, but, I dont know what kind of weird love child it is, though. Sealand [America and England's love child] is, like, ten times better..._

* * *

><p>It was a beautiful day in Washington, DC. The birds were singing, the sun was out, kids were playing just outside, laughing and running...and there America was, cooped up in his office, doing paperwork.<p>

Of course, he never was a fan of paperwork. So it was sitting, ignored, on his desk, and America's attention was instead turned to a hilarious pop tart-cat singing an unintelligible song in outer space.

Totally not a waste of time.

After laughing about it for about ten minutes - the Youtube videos were never much longer than ten minutes - he made an amazing discovery in the Suggestions section.

Of course, the first thing he did was call England.

* * *

><p>England looked down at his cell phone, which was currently belting some annoying American pop song. Instantly knowing who it was (and who set that song), he picked up the phone, and instead of greeting with his usual polite, 'Arthur Kirkland speaking,' he said, "What do you want, Alfred?"<p>

"Artie! You have to come over!" America immediately replied, seeming louder than usual.

England blanched. "I'll have you know I am enjoying a very nice cup of tea right now, and I just put some scones in the oven for later. Therefore I am not about to fly all the way out to your house just to..." he paused. "...Why do you want me to come over?"

"No, no, you have to come over now, Artie! It's..." there was a slight pause, as if America was actually thinking before he said something, "A surprise! So you have to come quick, okay?"

England's face heated up as he remembered the last "surprise" America had for him when he visited. "Alfred, it's 8pm, my time, and 3pm your time. By the time I'll get into Washington D.C it will be 11pm, your time. Perhaps we should plan this a bit more?"

"No, no, it's totally fine. I'm prepared to stay up all night if I have to!" was the over-excited reply.

This made England even more worried. He glanced at the clock, then back to his kitchen, where the timer was still counting down for the scones. "W-well, okay, I s-suppose. You'll have to pick me up from the airport, though!"

You could practically hear the smile in his voice, "Of course! I'll be right there waiting, kay? And don't worry - You don't need to bring anything special, either. All I need is you."

At that last statement, England's blush ran to his ears. "I-I...I'll be at Dulles sometime after eleven, then. I'll...see you soon, Alfred."

Checking the digital clock in the corner of his computer screen, America nodded despite the fact that England had no way of seeing it. "Perfect. See you then, Artie~!"

And on that note, England hung up the phone. He leaned back in his couch, glancing at his own clock again. What could be so important that America would want him there right away? Though, it had been awhile since they visited each other...

The smell of smoke and the sound of a shrill timer going off broke him out of his thoughts.

"My scones!" England leapt off the couch, running to the kitchen to save the burning food.

* * *

><p>America stood in the airport, near the gates he was sure England would come out of. Everything at his house was set up, England was going to be there any second, and America was bouncing on his heels in anticipation. Of course, he figured that Iggy would at first be angry at him for his plans - he always was angry for one thing or another - but he'd eventually come around to it. America knew England wouldn't say no. Besides, who can disagree with America?<p>

England finally emerged from the gates, wheeling his carry-on behind him. Almost instantly, he spotted America (wearing his very distinct bomber jacket) and started to walk towards him.

Deciding his lover was being a tad too slow for his impatience, America ran to England, wrapping him in a big hug, almost forgetting to mind his strength, and spun him around a few times. "Hi Artie!"

England, suddenly fearing for his life, wrapped his arms around America's neck, which was probably mistaken by the other man as a hug. "Put me down!" he practically shouted in the American's ear.

America, in delight that his stubborn lover actually hugged him back, was startled when England shouted in his ear. "Oh, yeah! Sorry, Ig." He put England back down, letting him support his own weight, but kept his arms hooked around the other's waist and his movie-star smile never leaving his face.

England brushed himself off, crossing his arms. "My name is Arthur ," he practically snapped, but upon seeing his boyfriend's smile, he let a small smile grace his own features, also blushing. "A-And it's very nice to see you, Alfred," he said in a somewhat formal tone.

Used to England's actions, America simply smiled wider and nuzzled England's nose, pressing their foreheads together, "I missed you too."

England froze. He did not like public displays of affection. At all. And America always seemed to forget that.

...Although, they _were_ at an airport near midnight, with no one else around...

England closed the gap between them, pressing a quick kiss to the American's lips.

America's smile faltered, his expression of joy replaced by surprise for a fraction of a second, before it came back ten-fold. He pecked England back before grabbing his hand, "Ready to go back to my place?"

England nodded, then remembered the excited call he had gotten earlier. "Which reminds me, what is the surprise you were talking about?"

America's smile might have gotten brighter at the mention of his "surprise", had it been possible. "You'll see!" and then he pulled England along to his car, not listening to any protests the Brit may have given.

* * *

><p>As soon as America pulled into his driveway, England jumped out, not waiting for the car to be turned off. "You drive like a madman!" he almost shouted at the other man, his voice slightly hoarse from yelling at America to slow down for the whole car ride. "Who gave you driving lessons, Italy?"<p>

America giggled as he turned the ignition off and got out of the car. "Oh, c'mon Artie! I'm just excited!"

England crossed his arms. "Yes, and your excitement almost got us bloody well _killed_."

"Ha-ha! Sure, England, sure! Let's go inside, okay?" America was practically skipping up the driveway to the front door of his large 2-story home.

England sighed, knowing he couldn't get through to the boy, and followed him inside. As they entered, they were meant by an unusual silence. "Alfred," England started. "Where are your children?"

"Oh, they're at the other house right now. I just thought you wanted some, uh, privacy." he responded without looking back.

"Oh." England paused. That was very...considerate of America. Was the surprise really that important? "...Well, we're here. What's the surprise?"

At that, America grabbed his hand, and led him wordlessly to the living room, an unusually serious look on his face as he turned back to England.

England glanced around the living room, and then looked back at America. "Yes?"

"I've been thinking, and..." he trailed off, as if he was not sure how to correctly continue it.

England's thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "And...?" he prompted.

"And I'm getting worried." he continued.

"Worried about...what?" England did _not_ like where this was going

There was a pregnant pause until America finally spurted out, "I think you're seriously killing yourself! I mean, you actually _eat_ your own cooking right? I'm afraid that one day, it'll come to life - like the cake you made for my birthday last year - or you'll poison yourself or something! So I saw this and thought that you totally need to hear it." Before England could say anything, America suddenly turned around and hit a button on his laptop. Immediately following was a few seconds of piano music, and then... _"Step one, pre-heat the oven 'til it's hot..."_

England's mouth fell open as the song continued. _"And take the mixing bowl or pot. Spatula or wooden spoon. Settle down, we'll be baking soon..."_

As the song finished up, England turned to America, his face a shade of red that rivaled one of Spain's tomato's. He closed his mouth, speechless. Finally, he gridded through his teeth, "You had me fly all the way here...to hear that?"

"Yeah!" America nodded eagerly, pleased at the lack of hitting and shouting. "And we...I could cook some, too, like they said in the video! My agents bought a ton of ingredients, so maybe if you don't blow up the kitchen you could totally learn how to make a scone!"

"I already know how to make scones!" England shouted. "You just have no taste, because they _are_ delicious!" he snapped. Then he looked down at the floor, muttering, "And I do not blow up the kitchen whenever I cook."

At this, America grew confused. "Uh, dude, that charcoal-stuff you make doesn't count."

"That 'charcoal stuff' I make is usually the result of you distracting me while I cook!" England's face turned an even deeper shade of red as he glared at America.

"What? According to France, you've cooked like that since way before I was born."

England crossed his arms, scowling. "Damn frog. He'll pay for that."

(Somewhere in France, Francis shivered.)

"Still," England tried again. "My cooking has gotten better since then. We didn't exactly have state-of-the-art cooking machines."

Horrified, America shouted, "You were _worse?_"

"My cooking was never bad!" England shouted back.

"Denial isn't just a river in...China!" America shot back.

England blinked in surprise, slightly shocked. "A river in...It's in Egypt, you idiot!"

"SO YOU ADMIT IT!"

"No I do not! You are just so stupid that you don't even know basic - Oh, you know what? Just forget it!" England turned his back to America, arms crossed.

"IIIggyyyy!" America whined, but refused to give up. He tried again, "The first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have one..."

"I do not have a problem! And my name is Arthur!" England snapped, back still turned.

At this America sighed, now knowing there was no way he could get England to cooperate. Well, there was _one..._

He wound his arms around England and rested his chin on the other's shoulder. "Arthur..." he said in a low voice, knowing that England loved it when he said his full name in such a tone.

England suppressed a shiver as America wrapped his arms around him, knowing exactly what America was trying to do. In his head, England chanted, _Resist, resist_.

"Yes, Alfred?" he finally said, voice coming out softer than he wanted it to be.

Rewarding the response with a kiss to England neck, he breathed, "You know I love how stubborn you can get..." his fingers wiggled under England's shirt, ghosting over the smooth, pasty skin, "and I can think of some things I could do to _persuade_ you..."

England's breathing hitched. America knew exactly how to play him. But he was not about to give in that quickly. Pressing his arms closer to his body so that America couldn't move his hands farther up than his stomach, he asked, "What kinds of things, Alfred?"

Chuckling lightly, America's hands instead slid down to play with the hem of England's pants, lifting his head so that his lips grazed the shell of England's ear, "What do you think?"

England groaned softly, fighting the urge to arch into America's touch. "Why don't you show me?" he whispered.

In response America's hands travelled further down, and through his nipping and licking at England's neck he muttered, "Gladly."

* * *

><p>England groaned, rolling over so that he was snuggled into America's side. "Alfred?" he muttered into America's skin.<p>

"Yeah, Artie?" he responded, snuggling England closer and rubbing gentle, lazy circles on his back.

England paused, letting the nickname pass. "I think I'm ready to try making some scones."

* * *

><p><strong>So, here's the link to 'How to Bake A Scone' : http: www. youtube. com/ watch?v=cvaMC6pcvQY  
>Just remove the spaces! And check out their 'Four Chords' act too, mind blowing. <strong>

**And...thats it! By far, our favorite line was "Denial isn't just a river in...China!"  
><strong>

_Oh, and sorry for the teaser, guys.__I wanted to put lemon in but Sox was all like "Nooo! Not the lemon! Not the lemooooon!" And I was like "BUT THE BOTTLE SAYS LEMON!" (Because, seriously, the bottle said 'AMERICAN LEMON')_

**I just didn't want our first story on here to be a lemon!**

_Code:  
>"Nooooo! Lemoooon! Noooooo! Noooooooooooooooooo!"<em>

**...Shut up...**

_And you know what the Seme Handbook says.  
>No = F*ck Me<br>So that was REALLY awkward._

**Well, I don't think you're going to so...I'm safe.**

***clears throat* Anyway...see you next time, da~?**

_Hasta La Pasta~!_

~_Butterfly_ &** Sox **


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